Chapter 26
L’Invité
CLAIRE
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sharp rap of knuckles against wood. The sound made my head throb and nausea coil in my gut. Beside me, Bastien continued to silently rest.
My wolves growled, and I petted the top of their heads, scratching behind their ears. “Who is it?” I forced myself to ask.
“An ol’ friend,” came a gruff voice.
I froze. Heart fluttering in my chest. That voice. That voice. It was only ever inside my head. Not out of it.
The instant the doorknob turned, I seized Bastien’s sword. It was heavier than I thought it would be, and I was too weak to hold it up. “Identify yourself!”
My wolves rushed to the door, barking and growling, when they suddenly backed off and ran under the bed, whimpering.
The door creaked open, and a man melted into the shadows of the dark room. Even though I couldn’t fully see him, I could feel him. My body recognized him.
Gorrath.
“You don’t need a sword,” he said with a chortle.
I scooted closer to Bastien, unable to believe my eyes. He’d said the demon was locked away in the Underworld.
“Wake up. Bastien, wake up!” I breathed. But he didn’t move. He was a living corpse. No heartbeat. No breath. The only certainty that I had that he wasn’t completely dead was the pull of our matebond.
The demon stepped out of the shadows, and I struggled to pull in a full breath.
He was tall and lean, with sculpted shoulders and wide hands.
His skin was golden brown, and soft black curls fell into even blacker eyes.
But the thing that unnerved me the most was the single curled horn framing the left side of his face.
“You can’t be here,” I said. “Bastien banished you. He sealed you in the Underworld.”
“Aye. That he did,” Gorrath replied. “But he forgot that he is dead. And magick dies when the caster does.”
“When he became a vampire…” I said, my voice trailing off.
“His spell weakened. Chastity was able to break it.”
My mind raced with the implications. But either way, Gorrath was here now. In the flesh.
He wore no shirt under his closely fitted jacket. Just bare skin inked with rose thorns. This close, his power seemed to call to the magick inside me. Stirring it until restless energy moved beneath my skin. A flush settled into my cheeks, and sweat rolled down my neck.
He’d been there in that circle. Holding me. Touching me. Invisible, yes, but there. He’d been inside my head. He’d messed with my emotions.
Gorrath pressed his hands to the footboard of the bed and leaned in until we were eye level. “Drop the scared little dove act. You’re not fooling me.”
“I’m not scared,” I bit back.
He laughed under his breath and leaned an inch closer, invading what little space I had left. The aroma of frankincense wafted toward me. “Where’s the girl who called me disgusting? I’d like to talk to her, please.”
I held his gaze. Saying nothing felt like the only weapon I had. It seemed to disappoint him, which I took as a win. I didn’t need to play right into his hand. He was here for a reason.
The demon turned his attention to my husband. “He looks like hell.”
“He refuses to eat.”
“Of course he does,” the demon drawled. His gaze flicked back to me. “You’re carrying our heir.”
“Our?” The word tore from me. I crawled forward on the mattress, the fire igniting in my eyes. The power rising to meet my fury. “There is no our,” I spat. “There is no world in which you get to use that word with me. If I am with child, it is not yours.”
The candles along the walls flared to life. The bed frame groaned as I rose onto my knees. One finger pointed dangerously at his tattooed chest.
Gorrath unbuttoned his jacket and opened it, baring himself to me. He was chiseled and hard, and the thorns stretched down below the waistband of his trousers.
He pressed his lips together as though trying—and failing—to hide his satisfaction. “Hit me with your best shot, witch.”
If he wanted a fight, I would give him one. “Do not speak about my baby again. Or I’ll…”
“What?” Gorrath teased. “You’ll curse me?” He smirked. “There she is. There’s the fighter.”
I wanted to fight him. The magick was right there. Sparking against my skin. But something stopped me.
Gorrath slowly buttoned his jacket back up, covering himself once again.
“Your baby will inherit my power,” Gorrath continued.
“I might not be the father, but I’ll have a vampire princeling with a demonic bloodline.
” He folded his arms across his broad chest, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Uncle Gorrath has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? ”
Rage exploded through me, so hot my vision swam.“You are not coming anywhere near my baby!” I shouted so hard my vision swam, and my head throbbed in protest. I sat back on my heels, struggling through a sudden wave of dizziness. “If you just came to irritate me, then leave. He’s trying to rest.”
The teasing curl at the corner of his mouth faltered. “Let me see that knock on your head.”
“Do not touch me.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Bastien, then back to me. And for a heartbeat, he almost looked ashamed. But if he could feel anything close to shame, he buried it.
“Relax, Mama. I came to give you an early push present.”
I had no clue what kind of present the demon of sex and disease could possibly give me.
I glanced at the horn that sat on my bedside table, afraid it was going to start moving all on its own as it had in that circle, and the demon roared with laughter.
“Use it after I leave. Preferably before Bastien wakes up.” He winked.
“Don’t worry, it will be our little secret. ”
I thought about throwing the relic at his stupid head, but I knew that’s what he wanted. To provoke me. “Get out.”
“But I haven’t given you your present yet.”
I leaned back against the pillows, trying to stop the room from spinning. “Hurry up then.”
He fished inside his pocket and removed a small seashell, holding it up for me to inspect. “I heard there were some covens who could use a few relics. And since you already gave away my other shells, I figured I’d give you another.”
Those had been relics? The shells I’d gifted Imogen? Was that why she wanted them so badly? I pushed thoughts of her aside, but there was a coven that could use a relic. Shreesa’s family desperately needed one. Bastien had told me they’d lost the ability to bind familiars to them.
I hesitated. “What is this gift going to cost me?”
He just smirked. “Haven’t you ever gotten a gift before?”
I rolled my eyes, but held out my hand. He dropped the shell into my palm. When it landed, dark magick buzzed against my skin.
“I know just who to give this to,” I told him, trying not to seem too grateful.
While I was tucking the shell inside my pocket, he picked up the two opaline stones that were sitting on the bed. “One more thing. You wanted to know if your wolves had names. Didn’t you?”
Had he been listening to me? Outside the door, or in my head, it didn’t matter. It was violating.
He whistled to the wolves, then clapped. They didn’t come out from under the bed. “Leave them alone.”
Gorrath flashed a too-wide smile, then tossed the two necklaces into my lap. “Put these moonstones on them, and they’ll be able to tell you exactly who they are.”
“What do you mean?”
“A moonstone is the only thing that allows a werewolf to control their transformation. You’ll see what I mean.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I was suddenly too dizzy to talk. The back of my head was throbbing in pain. When I touched it, my hand came away red.
Gorrath backed up a pace, then another, inching toward the door. “I’ll come back for another visit when they’ve healed that knock on your head, and he’s looking more alive.” He cast a long look at Bastien, the grin slipping from his face. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Then he was out of the room, gone like a shadow. I leaned against Bastien and clutched his bicep just to hold something solid and real. He’d been so confident that Gorrath couldn’t escape the Underworld. Just as I’d been so confident that the wolves under our bed were familiars.